


bedroom hymns

by giraffingallday



Category: Black Mirror (TV), Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Religious Tones, Soulmates, a bit at the end, forgot that one for a second there, worship kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 11:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17897876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffingallday/pseuds/giraffingallday
Summary: “And then what, shall I build an altar to spread you out on? Treat you like a sacrifice for my godly whims?”Stefan wished he would, he’d give himself to Colin in any way he could, lay himself down on a stone slab as a present to his idol, he’d be happy to go.





	bedroom hymns

**Author's Note:**

> so in my last bandersnatch fic i wrote something along the lines of 'divine praise' and i havent stopped thinking about stefan and colin worship kink since so,,, i wrote this
> 
> anyone who may be offended by direct references to religion or the concept of comparing someone to a god/godlike figure especially in a sexual situation please steer clear this is not the fic for u

Apparently, Stefan’s always been a fan. Colin’s told him so at least, and he’s never found himself a reason not to believe the words that came from him. They’ve lived out infinite timelines, and Colin remembers them all, Stefan is lucky if he manages a few blips of a parallel life once in a while. He didn’t fall in love with Colin in all of the timelines, they didn’t click in the right place, or bump into each other at the right time, and that great omnipresent love that sat between them didn’t get a chance to bloom. It’s harder to remember that when Stefan is reminded that in every single life they’ve lived, Colin has always loved him.

It’s that lack of control, the knowledge that Colin’s lived through full lives without getting much more than a co-worker out of Stefan, that makes him happy to know that at least he was always a fan. He always ran to the video store on the date of new releases, always lamented in agony to his father of how much he was missing out on without a Commodore, and he always, _always_ hung off every word Colin offered him.

It was the mix of three emotions, love and idolization and guilt, which led Stefan to do something unlike him. To step away from his computer despite having more work to do, pad quietly through the flat they shared to where Colin was smoking and reading in his favorite chair, and kneel down before his feet.

“What’re you doing?” Colin’s voice had a bewilderment to it that Stefan had learned from, he’d never done something like this before, in any of their lives, it made his skin buzz, eager.

He stared up at Colin with wide eyes, always looking for Colin’s sure hand to steady the constant self doubt that threaded through him, “Col, have I ever told you how much you mean to me?”

Colin took Stefan in, sat back on his knees with his hands folded in his lap, he reached out to cup Stefan’s cheek, and the boy leaned into it like he was something holy, “That you love me, you mean?”

Stefan’s expression grew an inch of frustration; he shook his head in Colin’s grasp, but stayed careful to not dislodge himself from it, “That I _worship_ you.”

It shifted something in the room; Colin’s hand fell back to his roll up, knocking off its ash before pressing it to sizzle out against the plastic ashtray beside him, then returning to Stefan, this time his hair. He knotted his fingers into the soft curls there and guided Stefan closer, so he knelt between Colin’s legs, cheek rested against his thigh, “You look your best here.” He murmured, playing with the dark strands, giving an occasional pull to see if Stefan would flinch. He didn’t.

“Then keep me here.” Stefan’s voice was hoarse, as though they’d been at it for hours instead of the few minutes of tedious quiet they’d actually spent.

He watched as Colin regarded him passively, fingers in his hair moving slow, well practiced. He had to fight to keep his eyes open against the way he wanted to let his body relax so Colin could guide him, “And then what, shall I build an altar to spread you out on? Treat you like a sacrifice for my godly whims?” There was dry humor there, but Stefan stared back with such severe awe Colin’s laugh caught in his throat.

“You could, I would let you.” Stefan wished he would, he’d give himself to Colin in any way he could, lay himself down on a stone slab as a present to his idol, he’d be happy to go.

He relished under the way Colin grinned at him, fond at the edges with a hint of something like ownership. He tugged Stefan’s hair lightly, “Come up.” Stefan didn’t need convincing to obey, climbing up to Colin’s lap, settling into his space like it was an honor, a privilege. Colin put his hands on Stefan’s waist where he straddled him, twisted so he was manoeuvred to sit with his side against Colin’s chest, an arm behind Stefan’s back and a hand gripping tight at his waist. He was pliant through the whole thing, followed Colin’s hand like it was a blessed messenger, “If I’m to be worshipped, then you should be honored.” His lips came delicately to Stefan’s temple, rested there after the press of a kiss, “Devotion deserves reward.”

It drove a shiver throughout Stefan’s body, goosebumps rising on his arms, “Thank you.” He spoke softly, trying to be as well measured as Colin seemed to always manage, composed at all times.

Colin knew him too well, used his free hand to pull Stefan’s chin up so he could kiss him steady, slow and lazy. They had all the time in a million worlds. His hand moved from Stefan’s face, his skin burned where Colin touched his neck, down his chest to brush a thumb over his nipple through the worn fabric of his shirt. Stefan gasped into Colin’s mouth and Colin smiled against it, taking the chance to lick into Stefan’s mouth. Everything around them felt muted to Stefan, all his could focus on was Colin’s touch and smell and taste, the way he consumed his senses was overwhelming in all the ways he loved best.

After a while Colin pulled back, he only had a slight flush to his cheeks, his chest didn’t heave like Stefan’s, his body didn’t shake with the desperate want Stefan had. But his hands held tight, and he stared down at Stefan with an undeniable adoration, “If I had a temple, and they offered to fill it with riches in my honor, the only thing I’d want there would be you.” He said it while lowering his head to adorn Stefan’s neck and shoulder with more kisses, soft chaste pecks, like he was something worth handling so preciously.

Stefan wondered how Colin managed the strength to hold him up against the way he melted at the words, Colin was never good at sharing the way he felt, too pulled back from the numbing repetition of lifetime after lifetime, but Stefan felt it from his words, the loss of missed time, and longing for infinite more chance, and the _love_. He felt love more than anything.

His lungs were crowded with emotions, but he managed to speak against them anyway, “I love you.” Weakly into Colin’s hair, sticky and coarse from gel and bleach. Perfect.

“No, you worship me.” Colin’s voice came like a reminder, before standing to take the few steps to the couch on the other side of the coffee table, Stefan in his arms until he placed him down against the soft cushions. “ _I_ love you.”

He pushed Stefan’s shirt up, kissing the skin as he revealed it to the cool air, he stopped, took his time at Stefan’s chest, making him ache and arch as he nipped and sucked. Stefan had never found himself particularly sensitive, but Colin had this way of turning any spot on him into something that made him helpless. He removed the rest of Stefan’s clothes in the same way, trousers down with kisses to the inside of his thighs, one sharp bite that made his breath hitch soothed with a tongue, a peck to the side of his knee, even a soft kiss to the arch of his foot when his socks were removed. He knelt between Stefan’s legs when he had gotten his underwear off, there was something deliciously dirty about being completely naked while Colin leaned over him fully clothed, the rough denim of his jeans harsh against his cock, sensitive and leaking against his stomach.

Colin put a hand between them to wrap around Stefan’s length, one dry pull and Stefan a cried with pleasure against the pain, “Oh _God_.” And whimpered when Colin pulled his hand away, tutting his tongue.

“Don’t thank him. I’m giving this to you.” He chastised, and it made Stefan’s skin burn, blood thrumming just below the surface.

“Colin, _Colin_.” He called it like a prayer and Colin rewarded him by returning his hand, swiping the tip to wet his grip, his hand moved, slick and slow, like he only did it because he could. The thought made Stefan’s head light.

“Do you like this? Only I can give this to you. No one else has ever touched you. No one else ever will.” He said it like a prophecy, pushing his fingers against Stefan’s lips until his let them in; sucking hungrily, tongue laving against the salty taste of skin and sweat.

Colin stayed slow, fucking Stefan’s mouth with his fingers without any mindfulness to the back of his throat. He even smirked when a small retch escaped, but Stefan didn’t slow his pace, “You’re always so eager, is that because you want me to see your devotion? Hear your praises?” Stefan nodded and Colin rewarded him by removing his fingers, kissing him again while one spit slicked digit pressed into him, no teasing, just sudden pressure that pushed a moan from him.

Colin didn’t wait long to add another, just pushing, steady, in and out, barely stretching him. It didn’t stop the breathy cries that left Stefan’s mouth, and Colin dropped down to suck a mark onto his neck, too high up to hide, not that Stefan had the mindset to care for the moment. Not that he would have it to care later.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Colin always spoke brash, no room even in this moment of worship where he was set up like a higher being. It always struck something low in Stefan’s gut, and the slow pace they’d been set up wasn’t quite enough to send him over so he begged. If you had asked Colin in the moment, he would’ve called it prayer.

“Please Colin, _please_ fuck me, please.”His voice was erratic, inconsistent in pitch while he pleaded for this reward. Colin stretched his fingers, careful not to hurt Stefan even now, and, appearing satisfied, pulled them out and started to undo his pants. Stefan watched him pull down his fly and reached out to tug on Colin’s shirt, “Please.”

Colin softened a little, falling out of his roll, and pulled his shirt over his head, “Of course, my love.” He pushed his jeans down too, for good measure, and then finally lined up and sunk into Stefan. Stefan’s responding cry came out like divine praise.

Lost in the feeling of Colin pushing into him, hard but not too fast, the way that always knocked him out of his head, Stefan marveled at him. He arched over Stefan while he fucked into him, sweat beading at his hairline and on his torso, he looked god-like, and in the moment Stefan knew he truly did worship him, he would get on his knees and pray to him every morning and every night if Colin wanted him to. He couldn’t help but tug Colin down by his neck and shoulders so he could kiss his moans into his mouth, offer them up because they were all he had.

It didn’t take long for his stomach to knot up, moaning in fast breaths before he came, making a mess of his stomach while Colin sped up his pace, fucking him through it and then continuing when Stefan became sensitive, the feeling just along the lines of too much until he came too, spilling inside of Stefan with a grunting moan that had him falling forward against him.

After a moment Colin pulled out of him with a hiss, and Stefan mumbled half incoherent in gratitude, Colin shushing his gently with kisses over his face while he moved them so he could hold Stefan, crowded him between Colin and the back of the couch so he felt sheltered and loved in his arms. After he’d collected himself more, he managed a clear _Thank you_ to Colin, who rewarded him with a long kiss, wet and uncoordinated in a way that was too good.

They laid there for a long time, hands just feeling each other, the skin on skin aiding in their quiet intimacy, “You’re not a devotee.” Colin spoke, breaking the hushed air, “You’re an angel, built and crafted at my hand.” It washed over Stefan with warmth, and he settled against the words with a small smile.

“Would you allow me to worship you anyway?” His voice came out small, never as ready to break the stillness that tended to come to them. Always whispering into the air like he needed permission to.

Colin grinned into his hair, and pulled him tighter against him, “Only if you’ll let me answer all your prayers.”

**Author's Note:**

> as u know, i eat comments to survive so please help me out here and also thank u for reading!


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